Symmetrical
by insomniatic-titans
Summary: Why does Chloé hate artists? Why does she hate him in particular?
1. Symmetrical

It seemed like a perfectly good idea to Chloé at the time. After all, the plan was simple enough and it wouldn't cause her to break a well-polished and paid for nail painting.

All she would have to do was sit in the back of the classroom in that vacant seat, get away with doing nothing, as per usual, and admire Adrien Agreste from afar without looking too desperate.

There was, however, one problem to an otherwise flawless plan: that red haired artist freak.

Ever since the "Evillustrator" incident, Chloé avoided Nathanaël like the plague, though she just wrote it off as being disgusted by his fashion sense.

"Move your cheap art supplies to the other side of the desk so it doesn't have to touch my things," She ordered, not caring whether or not he denied her request because she knew he would either way.

Despite grumbling at the demand, the artist complied, talking back under his breath, "I have a name, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just move out of the way."

Trying to scoot closer to the edge of the table so she could get a perfect view where Marinette's head wasn't in the way, Chloé hadn't realized where her arm rested.

"Watch where you're elbow is!"

"Excuse me? I'll put my elbow wherever I want t- _why is it black!?_ "

Nathanaël didn't even bother to look at her, just grabbing her now blackened joint and showing her the damage she had done to his sketch, "See what you did? Skin oils...all over my drawing…"

"Oh, boo hoo! Who cares about your drawing? Look at what you did to my _arm_!"

Of course, all of their bickering was in hushed tones so Ms. Bustier wouldn't hear them, but other students began to notice their usually quiet classmate speaking out.

"You are so conceited and cruel! Do you even know how _long_ it took me to draw this?"

"No," She scoffed, "Does it really matter? I just got a tan and now it's ruined because of you!"

"Can you for at least _one second_ realize how much you blurred my sket-"

"It's soooo ruined!"

 _God, why does this selfish girl look like she wants to break out in tears over a fake tan?_ He asked himself, but he didn't want to draw attention to them.

"Look, Chloé. Just give me your elbow…"

"What? So you can finish the job and tint my whole body? No thank y-"

Before she could respond, he reached into his bag, took out a handkerchief, spit on it, and rubbed it over her elbow.

"Eww! What do you think you're doing!?"

"Trying to take the 'tint' off of you so you can stop wailing like I killed your kitty or something…"

At first she was disgusted and enraged, but later considered the fact that at least he had the decency not to use some common towel or a tissue to clean her arm.

"You know what? Fine. Clean it all you want, but I still want to sit where I can see Adrien. If I look at him from here, I have to see Marinette's ugly head."

For a while, only silence followed her comment, but he replied, "Why don't you like Marinette?"

"We can't all have huuuuge crushes on her like you do, Nathanaël. Why don't _you_ like Adrien?"

"I guess we can't all have _huuuuge_ crushes on him like you do, Chloé," He replied, mimicking her voice as he tried to fix the lines she just blurred.

His quick quip back at her made the blonde sneer at him. Did becoming the Evillustrator for a short while make him more confident or something? He used to be as timid as Rose, so what exactly happened?

In the end, she didn't want him to have the last laugh, so Chloé, like the... _complicated_ girl she was, reopened their dispute.

"So, I guess you're drawing Marinette _again_ , right? She's a terrible model. Why draw her when there's someone who obviously has more... _symmetrical_ facial features?"

Nathanaël pondered the thought for a second and turned away to avoid eye contact, "Hmm...you know what? You're right, Chloé. I think that... _Nino_ has the most symmetrical of faces. Thanks for your artistic viewpoint. I couldn't have done it without you!"

"Pfft, are you kidding me!?" She practically shrieked, more riled up by his response than she thought possible within her large range of two emotions, "Nino has the most _asymmetrical_ face ever! I meant _me_ , you idiot!"

"Oh, you? Hm...I'll have to pass. You see, the thing about being an artist is that you have to actually _enjoy_ being in the company of your muse. Don't worry though, I'm sure your father has plenty of world famous artists he can pay to draw your tight face."

"You…! Y-You! You tomato haired, unstylish, art obsessed freak!" She ranted, not realizing that her voice raised in volume with every insult, "Admiring Adrien isn't worth it if I have to sit next to you and your stupid cartoony sketch stuff! Ugh! Have fun being alone!"

Rising from her seat dramatically, she began walking back to her original seat next to Sabrina, despite the fact that the class was still in session, but was stopped when the freak grabbed her wrist.

"Chloé...I...want to apologize...for what I said. When I suggested that you should commission other artists to draw you, I lied. If any artist had to put up with you, all of Paris would be erased by Evillustrators, so forget what I said. You don't deserve to be drawn, Ms. Bourgeois."

 _Wait a second, does she...actually look hurt by what I said to her?_ Nathanaël thought as he peered at the girl, head facing the ground and trotting back to her original seat slower than usual. _Why would that hurt her feelings and why is everyone looking at me like I broke her heart?_ ** _She's_** _the one who turns us all into victims of those weird butterflies. Is a drawing of her that important?_

The class resumed after their spat without interruption, but something was off to the artist. Every now and again as he drew, he found himself glancing up at Chloé. About the sixth time he did, the bell rung and their eyes locked.

They looked more dull; the usual bright azure color that he actually seemed to like about them, was gone. What did he do wrong? Didn't everyone want to tell her off? Why was he the bad guy?

Upon gathering his things and heading towards the door, Nathanaël was blocked by Adrien and Sabrina, both looking distraught and disappointed.

"If this is about Chl-"

"She...She has issues with artists," Sabrina sighed, looking straight at the red head.

"Issues?"

Adrien looked away, not wanting to seem too stern, "Her mother was... _is_ and artist. A freelance artist."

"Freelance? You mean she's an artist that just employs herself and goes wherever she wants? That sounds nice…"

"Nice? Nathanaël, she left Chloé when she was a baby so she could pursue a career as a painter. She hasn't really even ever met her mother and the only thing she has to remember her by is that necklace. "

Looking out the window from the classroom, he could see her not even bothering to do her usual after-every-class hair primp; it hurt to look at her.

"H-How was I supposed to know that though? She never says anything, just acts mean to me all the time! _Especially_ me!"

Pointing to the bag holding his art supplies and sketchbook, the ginger girl looked almost sad, "You're an artist. You know she always gets what she wants, but only by pretending to hate people."

"Dude, she likes clothes, but I think the thing she wants the most is for her mom to come back. It hurts a bit more knowing that most of the muses for her paintings are girls her age."

Nathanaël glanced back one more time before making up his mind, "I'll apologize...to Chloé."

"I think that's a good start," the model added, "but you hit a _really_ sore spot on her. Try to think of something that shows you're really sorry."

"Alright, I'll try. Just make sure she isn't making anyone evil again while I do, okay?"

"I can't say that isn't going to happen, so work fast, Nathanaël. I don't even want to think of what will happen to her this time. Chat Noir, _despite being super strong,_ can't battle her forever."

"Wait, isn't Ladybug usually the one who bea-"

"Hahaha, we'll see you later. Good luck!" Adrien rushed, trying to avoid the question for some reason as he and Sabrina left the artist alone in the room.

 _What should I do to make it up to her?_

* * *

"Is my face really that tight?" The blonde asked herself, stretching her face in front of her very large mirror, "No...I'm perfect! What do they know?"

Her attempts to reassure herself were in vain when she suddenly set her eyes upon _The Woman in Gold_ , a painting, or replication, by Gustav Klimt.

"What's so special about you? Why are you so beautiful that others want to paint you, huh!? You probably had to ask your daddy for favors to-"

"Ms. Bourgeois, a boy has come to see you," Her butler called out from the door frame.

Immediately assuming it was Adrien who was worried, Chloé combed her hair furiously with her hand in an attempt to make it less frizzy, and pressed her eyes as to make it look as though she wasn't just crying, which she _definitely_ wasn't.

"Wait! Don't come in here!"

Finally finishing her primping, the mayor's daughter emerged from her room with a large grin only for it to be dropped when she saw exactly who came to visit.

"Oh...What do _you_ want?"

Upon seeing her reaction, Nathanaël felt like he was going to scream inside.

 _You can apologize to..._ ** _her_ **_. Don't worry about what she'll think, it's your fault._ He relayed in his mind.

"Ah, about earlier, Chloé," He started, then suddenly felt the awkward atmosphere and her butler staring at him from behind, "...is he going to stand there the whole time?"

As if right on cue, the rich girl turned to the taller servant, "Ahem! Leave us!"

"Yes, Ms. Bourgeois."

After the man excused himself, the teen walked into the room, almost tripping over a pair of shoes.

"Gah!"

"Careful! Those are Louis Vuittons!" She exclaimed, clearly more worried about the shoes than whether or not he had twisted his ankle.

"Thanks for the concern…I didn't come here to fall on my face, though."

Picking up the pair of Symphony Strap Sandals, Chloé walked back to her closet, trying to avoid looking at him, "What else would you come here for? To tell me more about my tight face? If that's what you're worried about, I already plan to have plastic surgery in the future so you can leave."

"Chloé, that's not at all what I came here for. I wanted to say I was...sorry for what I said earlier today." The boy admitted, sticking his large bang behind his ear in an attempt to show sincerity. The eyes _were_ the window to the soul, weren't they?

"Did you really think I was going to forgive you that easil-"

"Of course I didn't. That's why I dr-Oh my god, is that a Klimt painting!?"

Dropping everything, which ultimately caused his sketchbook to fall out of his bag and open on the ground, the art fanatic practically ran over and analyzed every detail.

"That? No, it was an expensive reproduction. I asked Daddy for the real one, but you can't own a painting that already hangs in the Neue Galerie."

"You know about the painting?" He asked, truly baffled by her hidden knowledge of art.

"Um, duh! I lov-I mean...I _like_ Gustav Klimt's paintings. He uses tons of gold tones, and you know I love gold."

 _Hold on,_ Nathanaël thought to himself, coming to a mental halt, _Chloé actually knows things that aren't fashion and Adrien?_

"Hello? Are you listening to me, Na-...you freak? Why did you come here besides apologizing? Couldn't you have told me this at school?"

"I actually had something to give you…"

"If it's a drawing of Marinette, I'm not interested and _definitely offended_ ," She sassed, sitting on the edge of her bed and crossing her legs while waiting expectantly.

Following her back to her bed after picking up his things, Nathanaël flipped to his newest sketch, "Why would I show you that? You would probably throw me off of your balcony if I showed you one of those. It's a…"

 _How am I supposed to tell her that I drew her? Just say "Hey, here's some art that you hate. I hope you accept my apology"? She'd probably throw me_ ** _and_** _my art off of the balc-_

"Ugh! You really need to stop forgetting that you're standing in front of people when you go all crazy and quiet." The girl suggested, suddenly a few inches from his face.

"Ahh! W-When did you move off of the b-"

Her face instantly lit up, "Is that me?"

"W-Well, I t-tried? I mean, it's, uh, it's not really finished yet, but I know you wanted me to draw you a-"

"Why did you suddenly decide to draw me?"

"Because I felt bad and I know that what I said hurt you," He answered, subconsciously walking around her in a circle, "I just thought that this would make you happy, Chl-Ah!"

"W-Wait! Stop falling on me!"

And just like that, the smaller boy was straddled on top of the most popular and rich girl at their school. But like all good things, it had to come to an end, and unfortunately for him, it was her father who ended it.

 _KNOCK KNOCK_

"Chloé! Darling, are you in there?"

A moment of silence followed, both Nathanaël and the girl under him being as quiet as possible so her father wouldn't enter the room.

Once the coast was clear, he got off her as fast as he fell, "S-Sorry."

"The only thing you have to be sorry about is three things."

"Wait, three? You said the on-"

"Number one! You made me fall on the ground and now my sweater and white pants are dusty! Number two! You need better conditioner. And lastly, number three! Your drawing is okay, but I look more like Marinette than myself and it makes me sick!"

 _Oh jeez, I knew this would probably happen._

"Alright," He tried to calm her, "How about this. I draw you, uh, now? You could just lay on one of your couches and I can sketch you until you're satisfied. How does that sound?"

"If you think I want you to draw me like 'one of your French girls' then you've got another thing comi-

"No, no, no, no! Do I look like I have the Heart of the Ocean for you to wear?"

"I have a replica."

"Oh for the love of-...Just sit down before I make you sit down."

The blonde gasped dramatically, "Wha-? You're going to _make me_ sit down? I'd like to see you try, shorty. Wait, what are you do-HEY, PUT ME DOWN!"

"I will when you sit down!"

Chloé felt her heart rate quicken, _Since when was he so strong!? What has he been doing, lifting clay for sculpting!?_

"And...here we are," He affirmed, setting her down surprisingly lightly.

"Hmph! Fine, let's just get this over with. What's your payment?"

"It's free."

"Free? Haha, nothing is free, Nathanaël!" She laughed, not realizing what just came out of her mouth.

"You just called me by my name. You're probably sick or something, that's why it's free."

"Oh, stop joking around. All artists have to make money somehow. Painters just think they can go wherever they want-"

"Chloé, if you keep talking I can't dra-"

"-and do whatever they think is fun for them! How is that good for anyone else, huh? How does it be-"

"Chl-"

"-nefit anyone else? Definitely not me! Artists are the w-Mph!"

She was so busy ranting about her hate for artists, that she didn't even notice that one had just kissed her...and she liked it.

"Will you pose now?"

"I...W-Why did y-"

"Shh. Just smile, alright? You look better when you smile, Chloé."

"You...Y-You…!"

"Your welcome, Ms. Bourgeois."


	2. Asymmetrical

She sat in complete silence as Nathanaël drew her, this time trying to express more of her likeness.

It was odd to him. In a way, a quiet Chloé was a good thing. On the other hand, however, it was unnerving. The girl looked completely spaced out.

 _Is she sick or something? Oh God, I probably shouldn't have kissed her if she w-...oh...oh!_ He thought as he sketched, accidentally adding too much pressure to the pencil which ultimately broke the lead.

"Are you sick? I...I'm sorry about kissing you. I just, uh, didn't know what else to do to shut you up."

It took her a second to come out of her trance before she replied hastily, "W-Why would I be sick? Do I look sick to you?"

"Yes...Yes, you do."

"If anyone is sick, it's you! Why did you stop drawing me?"

"Because I...well..." He trailed off, trying to think of an excuse for getting distracted by her appearance, "I...broke my pencil tip. Yeah, I only brought one pencil."

Chloé scoffed, "What artist only carries a single pencil with them? That's unprofessional."

Assuming it was his chance to escape, the redhead quickly stuffed his belongings in his bag, "You sure do ask many questions."

"Huh? Where do you think you're going? You didn't finish drawing me, Nathanaël!"

"How else am I going to draw you if I don't have a pencil that works?"

"You're so stupid! Ugh, just follow me," The blonde groaned and she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the hallway, taking the poor boy by surprise, "Did you ever think 'Oh, I could ask my beautiful muse if _she_ has a pencil?"

In the time it took for him to process the fact that she, a _girl_ , held his hand that tightly, Nathanaël found himself standing awkwardly besides the prissy girl in a descending elevator.

 _Why is she still holding my hand?_ He asked himself, _And why is it so soft?_

Meanwhile, she had similar thoughts.

 _Why am I still holding his hand? They're so rough and coarse..._

"So, uh, Chloé...where are you taking me?"

"Why, to the kitchen so you can sharpen your pencil, obviously."

Looking around the small box he stood in, he almost dropped his jaw at the number of floors her abode had, "How do you not get lost in this place?"

"I remember what Daddy told me. He said to go only on the floors with the gold circle around the button on the elevator. I just stay where I'm allowed to go."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense."

 _DING_

As the elevator hand reached two, the metal doors opened and Chloé took no time before, yet again, dragging him around.

"So where is your ki-Oh my God! It's huge!"

"Haven't you grasped the fact that everything I own is either huge or expensive? Alright, give me your stick."

Nathanaël blushed profusely, "M-My what!? I only kissed y-"

"Oh, get over yourself! I meant your broken pencil!" She rushed, ripping the the tool out of his hand and turning to the knives.

 _Knives? She's not gonna do what I think she is, right?_ He worried.

Surely enough, Chloé took out a large butcher knife and held the pencil out in front of her, about to cut.

"H-Hey! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Of course I know what I'm doing! It's just a knife, stupid!"

"No, you're stupid and you're going to cut yourself!"

"You're the artist, not the...the...uh... _knifest_!"

"Chloé, that's not even a real thing! Ugh, look, just let me help you," The teen offered, reaching his hands over her own.

The feeling of him being behind her, however, startled the blonde, causing her to move the knife. With only that swift drop of the blades handle, the metal sliced across his hand and hit the ground with a thud.

"Argh! My hand!" Nathanaël almost screeched, holding his wrist.

"Sor-"

"JUST GET SOME HELP, CHLOÉ!"

"It was an accident, I swear! S-Stop bleeding so much!"

He gritted his teeth and exhaled, "Believe me, princess. If I could, I definitely would!"

"J-Just tell me what to do for you and stop screaming at me! I can hel-" She asked with urgency, inching closer to him.

"And it just had to be the hand I dr-mph!"

His complaints were halted when he felt a similar feeling: her lips on his. Only this time, he wasn't the one who placed them there.

 _Is...Is Chloé kissing me!?_ He panicked, pushing her away.

"Hey! I'm not that bad at kissing!"

Frantically waving his hands in front of him, he corrected her, "I never said you were! I-It's just, my blood is getting on your shirt..."

"Can you just stop paying attention to my ruined clothing and focus on how you're going to die!"

 _She...She can't be serious._

"Chloé, I'm not dying...I'm just bleeding from my palm. And it hurts...a lot."

"So you are hurt!"

Sighing, he moved over to one of the sinks and ran his hand under some water, cringing as it hit the cut open skin.

"It's okay. My hand is fine now...are you okay, Chloé? Did you hear me?"

After turning the handle and stopping the water flowing from the faucet, the artist turned around only to find the helpless girl looking down at her clothes and back at his hands.

"Are _you_ okay, Nathanaël? There was...a lot of blood."

"I'll be fine, I promise," He assured her, despite feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"No, you're not! You keep...swaying like you're drunk!" The petulant blonde told him, going to grasp his hand as if it was becoming habit, "Just come with m-"

"Agh!"

Upon her touching his somewhat healed hand, all the pain came back as she gripped it tightly out of fear.

"Why are you yelling!? I'm _trying_ to help y-"

"H-Hand."

"I know your hand is bleeding, so just quit whining and-"

Suddenly, he asked her a question out of the blue, "Why and when did you just happen to care about what happens to me?"

 _I...I'm worried about you,_ She wanted to say. What came out, however, was nothing at all like what she thought.

"Who else is going to draw me!?"

"Not me now seeing as how my hand is...well, like this. I should go. Sorry to take up your time, Chloé," He deadpanned, no emotion recognizable.

"Wait! Y-You don't have to-"

"Why else would you need me to stay? All you needed me for was to draw you. I'll see you at school."

And with that, Nathanaël turned on his heel and left Le Grand Paris, bag still left upstairs in her room.

* * *

Figuring that standing around in a kitchen that had splats of blood on the floor wasn't the best of ideas, Chloé walked, or simply trotted, back up to her large room which seemed emptied than before.

"Could he _be_ any less stub-Gah!"

 _TRIP_

"Are you KIDDING ME!?" She she asked to no one in particular, "Stupid Nathanaël and his stupid sketchbook…Why would he leave it here? "

 _I might as well look through it_ , Chloé decided as she stood back up and went to lay on her bed, book in hand.

He seemed to put dates by every drawing, so she assumed starting from the most recent entry would save her the time of scouring through multiple sketches of Marinette. She did, however, have to touch the pages delicate and slowly so as not to do what she did that caused their whole fight in the first place.

As the girl passed each page, she noticed a pattern; a transition. Marinette drawings began to dissipate and more preliminary drawings of circle bases for heads, most of which had large 'x' marks over them, appeared.

The last entry, or what he just drew, was of her. It was much more like her physically than the other girl she despised.

15 février 2016 was the date scrawled on the bottom right corner. The moment she looked at it, she noticed that all those circles were drawn on the same day.

 _Are all of these circles supposed to be me? Why are there so many? Was he trying to draw me all day?_

Chloé continued flipping back and forth between pages until one of her fingers caught on a page, "Ouch! What the…?"

Curious of what he so neatly hid, she turned back the flap, revealing a list and a note.

 ** _Chloé:_ **_  
_**_Tall_ **_  
_**_Big cheeks_ **_  
_**_Bright smile_ **_  
_**_Big eyes_ **_  
_**_Blue eyes_ ****_  
_**_Why are her eyes so nice?_

The rest of the list was scratched out, though it seemed to go on to almost the bottom of the page. Along the margins of the paper was different shades of blue: Dodger blue, Brandeis blue, Maya blue, Bleu de France, etc. How many shades of blue did he have memorized?

The color index filled every cranny, apart from a space that was separated from all the rest, containing a small note.

 ** _I think I understand why you were so mean to me now. I also think I understand why you are mean to others too. I never t_ ****_hought_** ** _knew that was the reason. I'm sorry I hurt you, Chloé. You're feelings I mean…_**

Another portion of the note was broken up by a small doodle of himself looking frustrated and looking at her.

 ** _Why is it so hard to write how I feel? Maybe I should just tell her in person. Would she laugh at me? No, I'll just apologize in person. It's not like she'd care if I said how I felt. How...How do I even feel about her?_**

It took her a moment to process what she had just read. Did Nathanaël like her? Did she like Nathanaël?

 _No...No, that's crazy. I love Adrien! Don't I…?_

Confused by her feelings, she ended up trying to sleep on the idea, but in the end stayed up all night. School was going to be...stressful.


	3. Parallel

_Is that evenly shaped? It's not like his face is perfect or anything_ , Chloé asked herself as her pencil whisked over the sketch.

Lately, she found herself being bored by her usual classroom distractions. Talking, or rather complaining, to Sabrina wasn't as fulfilling anymore, and the more she saw Nathanaël's book in her bag, the more tempted she became to add her art.

The usually high-maintenance girl was so engrossed with what was on the page that she didn't even care about her "tinted" elbow and hand anymore. It was only until her so-called best friend tapped her shoulder that she was pulled away from her focus.

"Chloé? Why are you drawing Nathanaël?"

"What do you mean Nathanaël? I'm drawing Adrien, obviously. You should get your glasses checked."

The small girl sighed and pointed at the lines, "Well, I think Adrien has bigger cheek jowls and Nathanaël has thinner lips."

"H-His lips aren't _that_ thin, Sabrina! Hey...why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you know what his lips feel li-"

"Of course not! Why would _I_ ever kiss _him_?"

"I-I never said anything about kissing…"

Chloé's eyes shot up in surprise at her own words as she dropped her pencil a bit too dramatically, causing most of the classroom to turn and stare at her. Sadly, that included Nathanaël.

"Is there something you want to show the class, Chloé?" Miss Bustier asked, hands placed on her hips.

In response, all she could do was quickly try to shove the sketchbook back into her purse without anyone seeing, but that effort proved fruitless due to her tossing it too hard.

 _Please don't pick it up! Please don't pick it up, Adrien!_ She pleaded internally, but lo and behold, he grabbed the black book that landed near his feet.

"Adrien, would you please read who the owner of the book is?"

Looking guiltily at her, all her could do was obey his teacher, "It...It, uh, has Nathanaël's name in it."

The girl only knew three things for sure at that moment. One: the fact that Adrien Agreste was looking at her with apologetic eyes, feeling bad for what he did. Two: the fact that Marinette gasped so loudly, some would think she was suffocating. Three: the fact that the whole class was bemused about the prospect of her drawing in, or even touching, something that was his.

One thing she forgot to count, however, was the look that said owner of the book had on his face. Was he angry? Was he embarrassed? Was he sad? Chloé never bothered to read facial emotions until now.

"Well, I suppose if the book belongs to Nathanaël, he should come and claim it."

"A-Ah, yes, Ma'am!" He hastily replied, leaping out of his seat to get it.

 _No! I can't let him see it!_

Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed it, accidentally touching his hand.

"Agh!" He recoiled, grabbing his wrist with his other hand.

"Is something wrong, Nathanaël?"

"N-No, I just cut my hand yesterday and when _someone_ applies pressure to it, it starts to bleed again."

Cutting into their conversation, Chloé put her hand over the one that was holding the injured hand, "I told you I'd help you, you idiot! Did you bandage yourself!?"

"It's not your busine-"

"That's enough!" Miss Bustier intervened, "Chloé, take Nathanaël to the infirmary."

"What!? Why me!?"

"Because you seem to have caused this."

With a long and draw out sigh, the two teens gathered their belongings and left the classroom.

 _This is just great!_ She thought sarcastically.

* * *

 _This is just great!_ He thought sarcastically, _This couldn't get any worse, could it? I just have to be quiet the whole time and maybe she'll just igno-_

"Nathanaël."

 _I guess not…_

"Uh, yes, Chloé?"

"Why are you still walking? We just passed the infirmary. Are you blind?"

Coming back to reality, he stopped in his tracks and turned around, "I don't think so...Can you open the door?"

"I...yeah, whatever. I guess I have to since it was my fault you were cut."

 _Well, at least she isn't angry._

For some reason when they arrived, however, no one was there; not even the nurse.

"Hello?...I _said_ , HELLO!"

"Chloé, I think there's some sort of teacher conference happening today. We should just go back to cl-"

"Don't be stupid again, Nathanaël," She mused, pulling him over to a cot by his upper arm, "You aren't ambedexytrious, so let me put a bandaid on your or something."

"You mean ambidextrous?"

"Oh, you know what I mean! Just sit still and keep your lips shut and... _and don't kiss me this time!_ "

The sheepish boy shifted around awkwardly on the clinical bed, "This time? I only kissed you o-"

"But I kissed you, so...so... _so don't make me do it again!_ "

Turning around with cheeks flushed, she scoured around the room for bandages, though she probably also did it to avoid his gaze.

"Was it that bad?"

"Was what bad?

"Me kissing you. I mean, I don't have the best lips, b-"

Chloé turned around looking almost as red as her nails were painted, "It was my first kiss, you idiot! You took what should've been for Adrien, and Adrien alone!

"Do you think it was my _goal_ to kiss you!? Did you ever think that it was maybe _my_ first kiss too!? No! You're too self centered for that, now aren't you!?"

"I am not!"

"Of course you are! What about you isn't self centered?"

"Maybe the fact that I care…," She admitted, once again inching up to him, " _...I-I care about you!_ "

"W-Well, that's…! That's uh….I…"

Silence followed as it did before whenever things got the least bit sentimental between them. Her arms were held down on the bed, caging him in, as her face was parallel to his.

"You…? You what? Don't just not say anything! Here I am telling you how I feel, which I _rarely_ tell anyone, and you just stay silent!"

He could feel her breath on his face every time she talked; it made him wonder what that feeling in his chest was even though it was quite obvious.

"Do you only like me because Adrien doesn't like you? Am I some kind of...place holder to you?"

"Why would you even begin to think that!? You're the only one I've been thinking about lately and it's _really_ starting to annoy me, okay!?"

"Yeah, well you…!" The boy started, gripping his hands around her arms, "You've also...been the only thing I've been thinking about...and it annoys me too."

 _Why am I not taking his hands off of me?_ Was a recurring question that kept replaying in her mind.

 _Why am I holding her like this?_ Was a parallel question that replayed for him.

As they both thought separate, but similar, questions, they couldn't help but look into each other's eyes.

Only inches apart, they could really take in everything about the one in front of them.

Chloé noticed many things she didn't see before. His roots were more auburn than fire engine red, the bang she thought only parted once had two parts, he wasn't as pale as before, and his eyes were greener than they seemed from afar.

Nathanaël saw things he _had_ seen before. Her perfectly combed and tied ponytail that framed her face nicely, big blue eyes brightened by long lashes, and cheeks rouged the perfect amount.

"Symmetrical…" He muttered quietly.

"Wha-"

"Your face. It's symmetrical, Chloé."

"Really…?" She asked, brows burrowed.

His eyes softened as he bit his bottom lip, "Why would I lie to you?"

Their conversation went dry, but for once it wasn't awkward. They simply enjoyed looking at each other, but maybe that wasn't enough.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I...I...Na-"

Before she could even say his name, she felt his hands cup her face and her lips being enveloped by his own. This time, however, it wasn't a fast peck, but slow and moving.

He could feel her face melt from an expression of surprise to one parallel his own, calm and comfortable. Nathanaël wasn't sure how it felt to her, but definitely knew that _he_ was enjoying it. Despite this, he didn't want it to be any less pleasant to her than it was for him.

"Is this okay, Chloé? I don't want to make things w-"

"Why would you think I wasn't...enjoying this? I mean, I _guess_ if you wanted to make me like it more, you could do _this_ ," She explained, leaning forward and pushing both her lips on his, her body now hovering over his on the bed.

She had a different style of kissing than he did, and regardless of the fact that it was her first kiss, she was pretty good at it. At least, he thought so.

Nathanaël almost choked out of surprise, or possibly because he was forced back on the cot. Nevertheless, he played along.

Her mouth moved at a steady pace, transitioning between his top and bottom lip. Chloé looked, or rather felt, like she could do this forever, but he wanted more. The boy refused to accept that she got to be the one doing everything.

Pulling away from her for a moment to breath, he tried his best to keep his composure, "I-I can take over, Chloé.

"Nath, you aren't as good a-"

"Nath? Is that a nickname or something?"

"N-"

"It's cute...Chlo. Let me try! I promise it won't be as bad as before!" Nathanaël offered, not waiting even two seconds for her response before flipping their position so she was on the bottom.

"Is your hand okay still? I don't want to be blamed again for something having to do with your hand."

The redhead chuckled and smiled at her, "Aww, you're worried about me! That's so c-"

"Don't you... _dare_...say that word, Nathanaël."

"Don't worry, I know you a-"

 ** _CREEEEEK_**

 _Oh God, was that the door!?_ Both of them panicked internally, Who's there!?

"Hello? Chloé? Nathanaël?"

 _No...No, it couldn't be her. It couldn't be...Marinette._


	4. Altitude

Instinct seemed to be the best thing to follow in this situation. Before either of them could even register what was happening, Nathanaël pulled her under the covers of the cot and Chloé made her body flat as possible.

"Hello?" A male voice called out this time.

 _Wait, wasn't that voice Dupain-Cheng's? So then why is it so lo-...oh, god…_

"O-Oh, uh, hi, Adrien!"

"Could you find them, Marinette? Ms. Bustier sent me because you were taking a bit longer than expected," He chided, walking up besides her and taking a good glance around the infirmary.

Everything seemed to be in order besides the bandage cabinet; the door left slightly ajar.

"No, but I think someone's here. Do you hear that?"

"I've been hearing that creaking sound ever since I walked in here. Maybe we should look around."

As Marinette and Adrien probed around the room, the two who were now hiding under the sheets were trying their best not to make any sudden movements or noises. The only way they could communicate was through whispers.

"Psst, Chloé. Can you hear m-"

"Of course I can hear you, stupid!" She violently seethed, grabbing his hand which was, once again, still injured.

"Argh! Chloé, you _really_ have to stop doing that! God, I feel like you're gonna break my hand off or something…"

"Oh, hush up, Nathanaël. You'll be fine."

Sighing, he readjusted himself to a more comfortable position, "Didn't you say that last time?"

"Don't patronize me! It's you're fault that this happened in the first place! You kissed _me_ , remember?" Chloé hissed, despite nearly accepting the fact that she had an insatiable itch for his lips to be on her own.

"Will you at least try to be quiet so they won't find us? I know you don't want that to hap-"

His words were cut short as soon as the sheets were swiftly pulled off, revealing the two people they were mortified to see. This situation couldn't possibly get worse, they thought. But like most events that involved them together, however, it definitely did.

"O-Oh, uh, are we interrupting yo-"

"W-What!? N-No!" The blonde girl stammered, shooting straight up from her position on the bed to deny any accusations, however true they may be, "Me with him? Are you _kidding_ me?"

"It just looks like you were in the middle of something…" The model trailed off.

"Don't be silly, Adrien. As if I would _ever_ do anything with that little shrimp of an artist. I mean, come on. You can't be serious, right?"

It seemed that, like before, Chloé hadn't realized how much her words stung him. At this point, she appeared almost completely incapable of decency or empathy.

Her words struck something in Nathanaël the moment they left her mouth: I guess I am a placeholder. He wondered why he even kissed her and what could have possibly possessed him to do so. He like Marinette, didn't he?

Awkwardly shifting around the pigtailed girl, Adrien offered his hand to him in an effort to help him up, but was surprised to have it shoved away.

Instead, the artist tightly held on to the side of the bed with both hands, one of them still throbbing in pain, and swung his legs over to get off the cot. Sure, it made him writhe in pain for about a minute, but getting out of that room was more important.

"Are you okay, Nathanaël?" Marinette asked kindly, "Your hand i-"

"I'm fine now. Never better. I just need...someone who isn't lying when they say they care...and time for me to think."

With a solemn face and loose posture, he grabbed his sketchbook that Chloé had forgotten she brought with them to the infirmary and left without another word.

He hadn't intended to do it, but slammed to the door. The force of it being forced back into its frame echoed through the long hallway which was previously silent.

 _I have to leave before someone finds out I did that!_ Nathanaël panicked, fast walking towards the exit and leaving Collège Françoise Dupont.

He needed to gather his thoughts and get a hold of himself. Imagining her in his mind over and over was like torture: vivacious, angry, sassy, beautiful torture.

"Ugh! What's my problem!?" The teen bitterly said to himself as his feet ended up taking him to the one place he could relax: the Louvre. Meanwhile, Chloé was feeling more stressed out than the time she lost one of her best pairs of shoes. Granted, her father did buy her an identical pair, but it wasn't the same.

* * *

The silence of the room felt different from the quiet she and Nathanaël shared frequently. It was more like an intervention than a cute boy-wait, cute?

"Chloé, are you going to tell us what happened?" Adrien probed, completely oblivious to the small smirk Marinette flashed behind him.

The look on her rival's face was enough to make her blood boil, but she decided against doing anything rash, "I don't have to tell you anything because there's nothing to tell!"

"Nothing?" The designer mused, "It didn't really look like 'nothing' to me. Besides, didn't you tell him you cared about him and that it bothered you?"

"H-How could you know I said that, you creeper!?"

"Chloé, calm down. Marinette probably has a good explanation, right?"

"Well, Ms. Bustier sent me here about ten minutes ago, but I heard you both talking so I waited for the best mome-uh, I mean the most _appropriate_ moment to come in."

 _Ten minutes...what were we doing ten minutes a...oh no…_

Not waiting for the blondes blush to die down, she continued, "I heard you both confessing and I thought it would be rude to barge in."

One word caught Adrien's attention.

"Confessing? Wait, you like Nathanaël?"

"I never e-"

"I wonder why he looks so sad then...I mean, it's not everyday a girl you like confesses to you," He sympathized, looking oddly saddened by the thought.

 _A...girl he likes? Does he mean me?_ She reassessed, _He doesn't like me, he **likes** Marinette._

"He likes Chloé?" The pigtailed teen asked, "I mean, that makes more sense of why he's sad, but do you like him back?"

"Like him _back_? N-"

"Chloé… Please don't lie about how you feel. I'm you're friend; you can tell me anything," Adrien cut her off, sitting besides her.

 _Did he just call me his friend? Why am I not bothered by that…?_

"He...He...He tells me off like no one else ever would even dare to. He's so stupid with that whole 'I'm-an-innocent-artist' act that he does in front of everyone and it annoys me! Every time he shies away from something, I want to rip his hand off! I don't like his...his _stupid_ t-shirts that he has, like, an unlimited supply of! He keeps on looking at me like I killed his puppy or kitten or whatever, and it hurts! He's so...so... _s-so infuriating I want to just cover his lips again so he'd stop for **good**!_ "

"...Again?" They both asked at the same time, not paying attention to the coincidence because of the current confession that was just made.

"I..Okay, _maybe_ it happened more than once... _twice_ … ** _three times._** "

At that point, Marinette's smirk slid off her face as her line of sight moved to her feet, "I...I kind of understand."

She wouldn't tell anyone, but despite all of the times she had turned Chat Noir down as Ladybug, the secret heroine found herself frustratingly falling for him.

"How could you understand that at all? You aren't the one who likes that... _that_ …!"

"You don't know why you like them, even though it's obvious."

"What?"

"When you look at them, you have to keep reminding yourself that they aren't who you like and ignore your own feelings. At times, you feel like you should give in, but keep some kind of wall up that blocks them out."

The saddest part of what she said wasn't that she and Chloé both felt it, but that Adrien did as well. He'd try so hard to get his Lady to love him, but he found himself thinking of the quirky and adorable baker's daughter more often than his spotted partner now-a-days.

His feelings kept bursting at the seams, and apparently, so did his words.

"I don't even know who he is, but my bugaboo loves him. I love her, but I keep thinking of Mari-!"

He caught himself before finishing her name, but it was evident that both girls knew what he was going to say. The girl who was Ladybug, however, was the only one who understand the pet name.

"Bugaboo?" Chloé repeated, "What kind of a name is that?"

Surprisingly, Marinette picked up the taller girl's bag, handed it to her, and started to drag her out of the room.

"H-Hey, what do you think you're-"

"Go tell him that. He's probably at the art museum; he goes there to relax."

"I...Fine. If he isn't though, you owe me a new pair of shoes for all the walking!"

When the door slammed shut this time, all that could be heard was the clicking of Chloe's heels down the hallway.

Upon turning around, Marinette leaned against the door and stared him straight in the eyes.

"...Chat?"

"L..Ladybug…"


	5. Divert

_How can she be so...so selfish? It's not enough she hurts my hand, embarrasses me in front of our whole class, and constantly complains to me, but she has to lie about her feelings too?_ He thought as he stood and stared at the empty frame that once held the Mona Lisa.

Nathanaël was surprised to find that no one was in the same hallway; after all, it was a piece by Leonardo da Vinci. Then again, it _was_ missing.

The silence was calming, but also made him feel lonely. He was getting so used to her shrill voice telling him to do something or whining about her own feelings. For a second, the teen actually thought he missed it a bit, but suddenly, he could hear her.

"H-Hello? Na...Nathan...Nathanaël...Oh my God, where are you? My heel broke, and I'm gonna stick it right in...Madonna of the Rocks if you don't come here right n-"

"N-No! Wait, not that one! Just...Just hold on, okay?" He pleaded, rushing to the source of the voice, "Madonna of the Rocks isn't just some kind of painting you can r-...!"

Upon seeing the blonde in full view, standing about five feet away, the boy took in everything.

Chloé was hunched over and breathing heavily, hair in rats, clothes crooked, and heel split off one of her shoes. Now that she bent down, he could really put into perspective the fact that he was shorter than her.

"Why...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What happened to you? Did you get mugged or something?"

Furrowing her brows, she limped over to a nearby bench, "M-Mugged!? _Me?_ Who would ever want to mug _me_?"

"Considering who your father is, I'm guessing many people," He explained, moving to stand in front of her, "So if you weren't mugged, then why do you look like...well, _that_?"

"Why do you think, idiot? I went to come find you."

"Yeah, well...well maybe I didn't want to be found. It's not like you care, Chloé. "

"I don't think you understand. I broke a heel to come her. I broke…a _heel_. Do you even _know_ how expensive these were?" The rich girl exclaimed, pointing to her feet angrily.

"My whole allowance over the span of five years? Okay, that doesn't matter. I still want to know why you _really_ came here to find me; you were talking to Adrien."

"Maybe I didn't _want_ to talk to Adrien, and maybe I wanted to talk to you instead. Is that a problem for you?"

"No, because that's usually a problem for you, not me."

"Can you just, like, appreciate the fact that I came here?"

"As soon as you appreciate art, Chloé," He replied sternly, holding out his unscathed hand to her for support, "Considering you were just about to ruin a masterpiece, I think you need a lesson on appreciation."

Scoffing, the snotty girl carefully gripped her fingers around his hand, now starting to become aware of how tight she usually held onto him, "If you knew so much about this place, you'd know they probably have, like, lasers and security cameras around it."

For a while, Nathanaël and her walked around the museum with the boy occasionally telling little factoids about each piece. She found it impressive that he could store that much information about each individual work of art. If he was so good at remembering things, then why didn't he pay attention in class?

By the time they reached the Cour Napoléon, the area where the Pyramid stood, both realized how late it had gotten.

"How is it already 5PM? I walked here, like, twenty minutes ago…"

"Time flies when you're having fun, I guess?" He awkwardly answered, unsure, himself, of how the time passed so quickly.

Straightening her hair, the blonde let go of his hand, which she held the whole time, and turned, "Ugh, whatever. I'll just limp back to the curb and call my driver."

"I can help you _limp_ there if you need support."

"I...fine."

He carefully took her hand in his own before guiding her to a place she could sit next to Place du Carrousel.

"So, you didn't tell me how you exactly broke your heel. Did you step in something?"

"I'm _very_ perceptive. When you own shoes this expensive, you don't just _accidentally_ step in something on the ground."

"Alright, fair enough, but how did it break off?"

"Because...well, I ran here. I almost broke my stupid ankle because you ran away!"

"If you went to find me sooner, you wouldn't've had to run after me. I guess I get why you didn't though. How did it go with Adrien?"

 _Why am I asking her about a guy she clearly likes? Am I trying to torture myself?_

"It was normal. We talked the way we usually talk."

 _I can't just tell him I confessed my feelings for him in front the guy he thinks I like. Wait, what? No, I do like Adrien! What am I thinking!? I'm thinking I like them both…_

"Well...that's great for you, Chloé. I'm happy you had a good time with him," He added passively, not even making an attempt to show his emotions, "Thanks for walking...or limping...around here with me."

Sitting down on a bench next to the Arc de Triomphe, she could feel him try to slip away, "Hold on, where are you going?"

"Home. You're where you wanted to wait, right? No point in sitting here with you since I have homework and I know Sabrina is already doing yours right now."

"Yeah, I'm here but...but my phone's almost dead so I can't play games while I wait. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Draw on your hand? Oh wait, nevermind, you hate lead on your sk-"

"Only if you teach me," The blonde rushed, looking down at her hands before noticing him staring, "Wha-Hey, stop looking at me like that! I-I just don't want to suck at something, okay!?"

The sly look on his face was one she'd never seen before; it was like a whole new side to him which she seemed to like.

"If you want me to teach you that bad, okay then. Just let me get my sketchb-"

"No, wait! I, uh, well...you can draw on... _this_ ," Chloé cut in, holding out the only thing to write on instead of the book she didn't want him to see: her arm.

"...Is this a joke? I thought you hated lead on your arms; Are you sure that's okay?"

 _No! No, it's not okay at all! Why didn't I just snatch the stupid book before he grabbed it with his stupid hands! Ah!_

"Just...J-Just do it before I regret it."

Hearing a sigh out of the boy, she sat back a bit on the bench and watched as he went through every step of how he drew. It was hard to learn for two reasons. One being that the feeling of his pen against her arm tickled to no end and the other was because she couldn't tear her eyes away from his focused face.

"Done. Wow, how long was I sketching for? Shouldn't your car have gotten here by now?"

"Wha-What car? You mean my lim-...Oh...I,uh, forgot to message them."

"Seriously? Chloé, it's almost seven…Oh God, you're dad's going to think you got captured by an akuma attack again, isn't he?"

"Relax, it'll be fine. What did you draw on me anyways? Is that...me?"

"Yeah. Hopefully, it's better than the las-"

Every time she kissed him, it was always a surprise. Chloé Bourgeois wasn't one for giving you room to breathe or even think. He started getting lost in the sensation before remembering all the harsh words she said about him. Kissing her wasn't right if that was how she really felt.

"Chloé, wait. Wait, Chloé, stop!"

"What...What's wrong?" She asked, taking shallow breaths.

"Did you just completely forget about what happened a few hours ago? The whole 'as if I would ever do anything with that little shrimp of an artist' thing. Do you think I just completely forgot that or something?"

"So what? It doesn't matter anymore what I said."

"Y-You can't just think that because you're beautiful and rich and all means you can just treat people like they don't matter. God, you don't just hurt my hand, but you hurt my feelings too and that means nothing to you?"

"Of course it means something to me!"

"Then why don't you show it without your words instead of your lips and actually tell the truth this time?"

"I was telling the truth!"

"You asked Adrien if he was being serious when he asked what we were doing together! What do you _think_ that means, huh!?"

"It means I lied because I don't know what I want anymore, okay!?"

"What you _want_? Do you only see me as something you like and want? Seriously?" He asked, expression darkening as he roughly dropped her arm and picked up his bag, "I'm not some kind of handbag you can buy! Did you ever stop and think that that's maybe why Adrien doesn't like you? People aren't just things you can buy for your amusement! Just...Just call your damn limo before we have to hide for cover when you turn some helpless person into a villain again. I don't want to be here for that."

"I...Nathanaël."

"What?" The artist probed, only bothering to turn his head and not his body, "Do you want to confess another lie to me? I don't care, Chloé. At first, I felt bad about what I said to you in class and how much it could've hurt you, but now I realize it probably didn't hurt at all, right?"

"It..It hurt...so I tried to defend myself."

"By what? Hurting me in the process because I like to draw? I bet you hurt my hand on purpose just to make me miserable. That's kinda like a pastime for you. Remember the time you tripped me in Ms. Mendeleiev's class and showed my art to everyone like a joke?"

"I'm sor-"

"And then even after making me into some kind of super villain, you _still_ make me miserable. What is it you want, Chloé!?"

"I-"

"You wanted everything you could get even though you already have it. There's one thing that you can't have, however, and that's me," Nathanaël coldly finished, walking through the arc with his dignity and pride.

He left her again. This time, however, she had no right to follow him. She could only stay where she was, call for her ride, and pretend she wasn't crying on the now ruined drawing of her face. From then on, she finally understood their actions; why artists always left her. They didn't love her.


	6. Inversion

"Chloé, can you open the door? It's me, Sabrina. You know, your, uh, best friend."

"Can't you read the sign!?" The pouty girl whined, voice muffled by the pillow pressed against her face.

"But I did your homework for you...also, Ladyb-"

"Ladybug said wha-! I...I mean, uh, fine. Whatever, just come in before I change my mind."

 _Alright, Sabrina. You can do this_ , She told herself, having to mentally prepare for the onslaught of ranting.

It had been three days since anyone at the College had seen Chloé. It was as if she wiped herself clean off the grid, but when you're the mayor's daughter, that's pretty much impossible.

Most students in her class assumed she was away at a fashion show again, but one student knew otherwise...not that he was going to tell anyone the real reason she was absent.

"Chloé, where are you? Are you on the cou-Oh my…" The bookish girl almost gasped at the sight before her.

Sprawled face-down on the Queen sized mattress was Chloé, looking as though she was on the verge of a panic attack. She could only make out a few of the words her friend was saying.

"...I hate...life...he hates me."

"Who hates you?" Sabrina asked, sitting besides her, "Adrien? He doesn't ha-"

"Not Adrien! God, Sabrina, you don't listen to me at all!"

"Sorry! Uh, your dad?"

"Daddy would never hate me!"

 _Who else is there that would have this kind of effect on Chloé? It couldn't be…_

"Is...Is it Nathanaël? Does Nathanaël hate you?"

"Duh!" The blonde spat, turning her head to reveal a face of utter distraught.

"But I thought you hated him…?"

For a moment, she didn't acknowledge the fact that Sabrina was able to guess. It made her wonder if it was obvious that she liked him.

"Chloé… You know you can tell me anything, right? We're best friends."

The endless sniffles and whines from the girl were enough to tell her that if she didn't do something to stop her tears, she'd be thrown out. Sabrina would have pulled her only friend into a hug, but stopped when she noticed the marking on her skin.

"Oh, hold on a sec, Chloé. You have some dirt smudged on your arm. Here, let me just rub i-"

 ** _SMACK_**

"Don't! I...just get away. Leave."

"Chloé, I-"

"Please!"

 _Please? Since when has she ever said the word 'please'?_

Her whole life, the blonde never once found herself pleading for anything or anybody. Well, not until recently, that is. Sabrina was at a complete loss, so the only thing she could do was leave her cranky friend to her wallowing.

"Text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on," The bespectacled girl reminded her before leaving, despite knowing that Chloé Bourgeois was as stubborn as a five year old.

* * *

The next day at school, Nathanaël arrived late as per usual. He always seemed to be the last one to class and was usually laughed, or giggled, at by the class as he haphazardly tripped on the way up the stairs. This time, however, he wasn't the latest.

As he walked up, this time earlier than before in the hopes of avoiding Chloé, he slowed down considerably when he noticed she wasn't there.

 _Where is she now? No Adrien fawning today,I guess. She probably went on some big unannounced vacation with her father._

It was the only reason he could come up with, and yet he was proven wrong when she walked through the doorway dressed in an outfit unlike her usual yellow cardigan and white jeans.

Wrapped in a faux fur coat that covered her arms a little ways past her wrists, Chloé walked into class, clearly in no hurry albeit being tardy.

The eyes that usually made it look like she had some kind of vendetta were now just a pool of blue that you could sink into.

Mrs. Bustier, however, had no sympathy for the girl who always bragged about her perfect attendance.

"Chloé, you're late. Do you know what this means?"

"Yeah...just put the mark or...whatever you do for late people," She answered, sliding into her seat next to Sabrina and taking out her books.

The class droned on for an hour; it seemed slower than it was most other days. Nathanaël tried to pay attention, though eventually started to draw with his non-dominant hand. It wasn't the most beautiful of sketches, but it took his mind off of her.

After hearing the names of a few notable figures from the Battle of Versailles, the blonde blacked out on her desk, face sinking into the large jacket she chose to wear on a warm spring day.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Bustier?" Sabrina asked, hand raised straight above her head, "I think Chloé fell asleep. Can I take her to the infirmary?"

"Will she wake up? I see nothing really wrong with her apart from napping through history class."

"I thought so too, but she's really hot."

"Alright, Sabrina. I'll have someone bring her there."

 _Someone? Didn't Sabrina want to ta-_

"Nathanaël, take Chloé to the infirmary."

"Wha-Why me?"

"Because you both went before so I assume you know where it is."

"But, I-...fine."

Setting his pencil down next to his sketchbook and closing it, the artist moved over to her, draping her arm over his shoulder, all eyes on him.

 _If I said no they would want a reason and then Sabrina and Adrien would confront me again. I just gotta stay silent._

Despite her height, Chloé wasn't all that heavy of a girl. He could feel all of her weight on him and had to nudge away when her head drooped into the crook of his neck. The fact that she could walk while asleep was weird enough, but feeling her sweat drenched forehead brush against his throat didn't help him keep his composure at all.

 _Finally...here._

Just as he was about to open the door, his eyes caught a sign dangling from it.

 ** _Out for medical emergency. Will return in an hour._**

"Are you kidding me? Why is it locked? It wasn't locked the last time she left the room…" He complained, then turned to look at her, head now resting on his shoulder, "I'll just set you down somewhere and find some water."

After readjusting the girl on his back, he turned back to the main courtyard and sat her on a step at the bottom of the stairs and went in search for some water and a cloth for her forehead. Sure, he was mad at her, but that didn't mean he was an uncaring person.

In about two minutes, Nathanaël returned to her with a dampened paper towel in his hand, dripping with cool water, "Will this cool you down? Jeez, how did you even get so hot anyways?"

"Because I...am," She droopily answered, "I'm hot...r-right? My coat is really... _really_ expensive."

"Your coat? Oh my God, Chloé. No wonder you overheated; you're wearing a heavy jacket in the spring. Are you crazy? Come on, let me help you take it o-"

"No!"

"What do you mean 'no'? You're gonna pass out again if you do-"

"I said... _no!_ " She screamed, ripping away from his grasp, ultimately pulling off one of her sleeves.

 _Oh, so it just_ ** _had_** _to be this sleeve. Out of all the...two sleeves I have, it just HAD to be this one! WELL THAT'S JUST GREAT!_

"Is that...you didn't wash it off? It looks like you tried to at least scrub it off your arm, but it's only a bit faded…"

Since she didn't have anything to hide anymore, the blonde peeled off the jacket and hung it on the railing, proceeding to wipe the sweat that built up on the rest of her body.

"Hold on, let me help you with that," Nathanaël offered, blotting her forehead with the cloth before moving onto her neck sternum. It cooled her down, but some of the water ran down into her shirt, "Sorry! Uh, I, uh…"

"Why are you staring at me like that? Hello? Earth to you! Has my beauty blinded you or something?"

"Uh huh…"

"Well it should ha-Wait, what?"

Blushing and coming back to reality, the boy dropped the paper and turned away, "N-Nothing! I...Why haven't you washed off my drawing?"

At that question, she went silent. Not only that, but she even tried to stand and put the jacket back on and leaving before promptly being stopped by him grabbing her wrist.

"Chloé, why are you walking away from me? I was just trying to help y-"

"No, you were just _trying_ to ask me questions you don't need answers for _and_ you were ogling at my breasts, you perv!"

"Well, it's not like I could help it! Both things...I mean, I can't help doing both of those thi-Okay, no, that's not important. What's important is that you tell me why you're running and about the drawing!"

"Why do _you_ think, Nathanaël?" Chloé furiously yelled, whipping around to face him, "It _totally_ wasn't the long insult from the other day or that I don't want to be anywhere around you because when I am around you I want to scream but in a good way or a bad way!? Ahh, I don't know! Does _that_ answer your...y-your _stupid question!?_ "

"Yeah! Like fifty percent of it, yeah! Why don't you keep going then?"

"F-Fine! I will! I kept the drawing because I liked it and it every time I tried to wipe it off, I kept thinking of your _stupid_ face and I couldn't do it! With your... _dumb eyes_ and your...y-your _red hair_! And...And yo-"

"Will you just tell me you like me before I say it!?" The redhead boomed back, letting go of her wrist and walking closer to her, "Why can't you just tell me how you _really_ feel!?"

"Because I like you! _That's_ why I can't tell you how I feel!"

"That doesn't even make any sense at all! How does that explain how you...you like me….You like me?"


	7. Align

"You...You like me? You like me? You like me !? Y-"

"I won't if you keep repeating it like a parrot or something! There, you heard me say it. Happy now?"

"I...Yeah, I guess I am…"

What am I supposed to say to her no-

"Well?" She cuts through his train of thought, "Are you going to tell me you like me back, or do you think I should just, like, wait until you scream at me again?"

At this point, he had moved a distance away from her, avoiding the inevitable. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he felt it was either too cheesy or too soon. Then again, he had kissed her in the past, but this time it was different.

"I...I like you too?"

"Really? You don't sound so sure about that. If I'm going to be in a relationship with someone, I don't want it to be a liar!"

"Wait, relationship!? Slow down, slow down! You literally just told me you liked me, and now you want to be in a...relationship?"

"Well, duh! What did you think was gonna happen? I confess my undying l-... like for you, and then you say the same and then we act like it never happened? Haha, no."

As he tried to piece together what led up to this confession in his mind, the boy went to pick up the sweat absorbed towel from the ground, "I didn't plan on forgetting everything we just said. All I mean is, how do we do this? When? No one even knows you like me besides, well, me...right?"

"It's not like I would tell anyone, right?"

"What, because you're ashamed?"

Here he goes again with the whole "I'm-Nathanaël-and-you're-ashamed-blah-blah-blah" whine. Honestly, what do I see in him? He's not Adrien, he's not popular, he's not rich, he's not attra-...okay, **maybe** he's attractive, but still.

"I'm not ashamed! I'm ashamed I had to tell you myself because you wouldn't say it! If you want me to prove to the world that you're... with me , then why don't you come by my house later? Then you'll be able to prove it, and I'll prove I'm not ashamed to have you as a...a...a-a.."

"A boyfriend?"

"Yeah...what you just said. And when you come, wear something nice."

"But you didn't even say why I'm going there! How am I supposed to know what to-"

"Oh, do you hear that? That's my limo honking for me! You better look rich when you get there!"

She left him standing in the courtyard, silent and confused, wonder what she could even prove by him coming to her house. Either way, he'd still go.

No...No, not that. Oh, maybe th-no, it has paint stains on it.

* * *

Nathanaël knew that he wasn't much of a fashion oriented type of guy, but at this point, he wasn't afraid to try. He just knew that wearing clothes he knew Chloé classified as "rags" would get him kicked out before he even went inside.

In the end, the boy ended up awkwardly asking Adrien for a casual outfit he could borrow that the blonde wouldn't sneer at. Needless to say, it was one of the most awkward dealings of his life, but he was glad that the model had a kind heart and a charitable nature.

He at least expected her to be impressed that he showed up in something that was formal, but was sorely mistaken.

"Why is it so big on you?" She asked judgingly as she walked to meet him at the front of Le Grand Paris.

The way she swayed her hips as she moved caught his attention more so than before now that she donned a knee-length summer dress that was black and gold. It truly showed her queen bee personality. The only thing that snapped him out of that trance was the clicking of her heels.

"Why is what so big on me?"

"Your suit. It's, like, two sizes too big. Is this even yours?"

"Y-Yes! Why wouldn't it be!?"

As she straightened his jacket, a blush formed on her face, "B-Because you stole it or whatever! I don't know! There...It suits you."

"Well, it's a suit. It'd be pretty useless if it didn't suit anyone."

"I'll give you less than five seconds to forget you ever thought you could tell me a joke. We have to go upstairs or daddy will be worried I got kidnapped again."

Wait, who!? Daddy!?

Racing to catch up with Chloé who began walking away from him, Nathanaël was on the verge of an inner panic attack. Was this why she made him dress up? Either way, he was still chilled to the bone just thinking of meeting with the mayor of Paris in person.

"You never said anything about him, Chloé."

"I thought you'd, uh, figure it out! Why else would I make you come here in a suit?"

"Maybe you just like suits?" He guessed, clueless as he once again stepped into the golden elevator, "Whatever the reason was, you could've been, I don't know, a little bit clearer with what you said."

"It's not my fault you're stupid...sometimes…"

"Sometimes? Well, it's good to know I've been promoted from all the time to only sometimes."

God, he is so whiny.

The two bantered, voices bouncing off the four walls surrounding them, before noticing the doors opening. They did, however, continue to quip back at each other until Chloé's butler stood before them and cleared his throat.

"Madame Chloé, is this a friend of yours?"

"Yeah...I guess he's a... friend ."

He remembered the hotel well enough to know they were headed towards her room. The long winding hallway always irked him. He expected to walk into the large area with couches and a large television, but she made another turn, working her way to the door at the end of the hall.

These doors are so... **tall**. So, this definitely isn't making me feel nervous. Nope, not at all!

"Daddy!" Her voice rang out like chime as she shoved the two oak doors open, "Daddy?"

"Is something wrong, Chloé? Do you need me to recharge your credit card?"

Sitting with perfect posture in a, no doubt, expensive leather office chair, the mayor of Paris laced his fingers together and smiled at his daughter before his eyes lingered onto the boy next to her.

"Ye-Wait, uh, no. That's not why I came in here."

"Who is this boy? Is he one of your friends who does your homework for you?"

She has more than one person doing her homework!?

"No, Daddy! Don't just, like, assume everything. Gosh, just let me explain. This is Nathanaël. He's my-"

"Research partner for science class?"

"Daddy, no! Ugh, just let me finish! He's my boy…..friend?"

The artist wanted to ask why she spaced it out so much, but the eyes of her father glaring at him were enough to occupy his attention.

"Is he? You don't seem very sure of this, darling."

"Wha-? Of course I'm sure! I mean, look at him! He's standing, like, right in front of you!" She pouted, lips pursing up and eyebrows furrowing.

The whole conversation seemed to spiral into whether or not Chloé's father actually believed her or just couldn't conceive the idea of his daughter finding interest in any boy besides Adrien Agreste. As much as he hated to speak out, he had to at least save himself the embarrassment.

"Chloé, I think he understands now. We should let him work and do his...mayor things…?" He suggested, lightly tapping her shoulder, "I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Fine! Ugh, just ruin the rest of my plans, why don't you! It went pretty well, you know!"

"Oh I know...how bad it was going. I've been standing right here next to you, Chloé."

"Well, duh! Obviou-"

Both the teens halted their bickering when they heard the sound of her father rolling his chair out from his desk and walking towards him, extending a hand.

"Anyone who is able to keep my Chloé happy and can calm her down is approved by me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Nathanaël."

Shyly taking the man's large hand in his own, the red head couldn't shake the feeling of eeriness in his head. He sure did have that bravado he had on news interviews, but his words felt hollow.

"Okay, you met now, blah, blah, blah. Can we go now? I'm getting bored just standing here!"

"Sorry, Chloé. N-Nice to meet you as well, sir," He faltered, slowly parting their hands and absentmindedly holding hers as they walked out.

Nathanaël wasn't sure whether or not he felt at ease that he finally got past the meet the parent stage, of if he was just happy that holding her hand in his didn't hurt anymore. But for some reason, he could feel her father's judgemental gaze on him as he left with her in tow.

* * *

After returning to her room, the two of them ungracefully slouched down onto one of the couches.

"That went...better than I thought it would. Is he always that charismatic?"

"Only when he's faking it."

"Faking it? Faking what?"

"I guess his interest in something? I don't know," She sighed, "You can take off the jacket now."

"I...can't exactly do that."

"Why not? You have a shirt under it so I don't see the problem."

"That...kind of is the problem. I don't have a shirt under it…"

This situation could've been taken in many ways, but of course how it panned out just had to be Chloé hitting his shoulder and trying to rip it off of him.

"What were you thinking!? You can't just wear a suit without a shirt! You'll stink it up with sweat and other body stuff! Haven't you ever worn a suit before!?"

"Well, yeah! To, uh, funerals and weddings?"

"Without a shirt under it? Take it off!"

Blushing up a storm, Nathanaël tried to hold the jacket close, but Chloé straddled him on the couch and used all her strength to tear it off which, ultimately, was enough. As soon as his arms were out of the sleeves, she grasped it and tossed the garment across the room.

"How does it feel ruining nice clothes!? Not so good, huh? You should kn-"

Her words caught in her throat as she looked back at him, shirtless with beads of sweat still on his chest. The jacket must have been too hot for him.

"Can...Can I have the jacket back now? Chloé? Hel-"

"Go take a shower!"

"What?"

"Y-You heard me! Go take a shower, like, right now!" The blonde stammered, unmoving.

"You're still on top of m-"

"Then take me with you! Wait, no! I don't mean like tha-"

The moment his hand cupped around her cheek, she calmed, his light-hearted chuckle filling the silence.

"You're pretty cute when you're flustered. Who would have thought."

"M-Me!? Flustered!? No way! Nuh uh! I don't get fl-mphm!"

Moving his thumb to cover her lips so he could finally get a word in edgewise, Nathanaël scooted away from her and stood.

"You lie too much for your own good, Chloé. Just accept the fact that you, like every other human, has feelings. Try to find them by the time I finish in there."

"F-Finish!? Finish what!? That's disgu-"

"Taking a shower. Just calm down and breathe, okay?" He smiled warmly, heading towards the bathroom.

He's so infuriating! She thought, and yet she found herself gazing at his bare back as he left the room.


End file.
